THE  MERRIMAC, 


AJfD 


ITS    INCIDENTS. 


AN  EPIC   POEM 


BY 

ROBERT    B.    CAVERLY. 
1 


BOSTON: 

INNES   &    NILES,   PRINTEKS,  37   CORNHILL, 
1865. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  ot  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 

ROBERT    B.    CAVERLY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Distiict  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts 


&o  tfje 
REV.  THEODORE   EDSON,  D.  D. 

FIRST    KECTOK     OF   THE 

FIRST  CHURCH  (ESTABLISHED  IN  1824)  IN  LOWELL,  "THE  FIELD" 

WHERE 

ELLIOT, 

IN    1674,  PREACHED    TO    THE    TRIBES    OF 

WONALANCET, 

THIS    VOLUME   IS    RESPECTFULLY   DEDICATED. 


M191792 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Creation 9 

The  Storm       ........  10 

The  Torrent          . 11 

The  Landscape           .......  8 

The  Sea 12 

The  "Working  of  the  "Waters          .          .          .          .          .  13 

Finny  Tribes,  First  Appearance  of 14 

Animals,              "              ""....  17 

Birds,                  «              «            « 16 

First  Indian,  Appearance  of           .....  17 

The  Indian's  Habits  and  History 18 

The  Pilgrims  coming,  find  Squanto,  alias  Tisquantum,  "wan- 


',  nnd  Squanto ,  alias  Tisquantum,  "wan-  \ 
i"    .  ) 


21 
dering  here  alone ' 

6 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 
Samoset!  his  Personal  Appearance,  etc.    ....          22 

The  First  Treaty— Pilgrims  with  King  Massasoit  .  .  .23 

Tisquantum  dies,  giving  all  this  Domain  to  the  Pilgrims    .  24 

Progress  in  that  Day .26 

The  Fifty  Years'  Peace,  up  to  Philip's  Time    ...  26 

Philip  meditates  War,  and  Sassamon  divulges  it  to  the  Pilgrims,      27 
Sassamon  is  murdered  by  Philip's  Men       .  .  .  .27 

The  Murderers  are  tried  in  an  English  Court    ...  27 

Philip  appears  in  Court,  denying  the  Jurisdiction  .  .  .27 

Philip's  Argument      .  .  .  .  .  .  28 

The  Murderers  Executed  is  the  first  Step  to  Philip's  War         .      29 

The  War,  and  Philip's  Death 29 

Peace 30 

King  William's  War,  and  Woman's  Heroism  in  that  Day     .  33 

The  White  Man's  mode  of  Defence  to  Indian  Warfare  .  .      34 

The  Story  of  the  Capture  of   Mrs.  Dustin  and  her  two>> 

Assistants  by  the  Indians;  —  the  Slaughter  of  the  Indi-  V  3,5  to  49 
ans  by  them,  and  their  final  Escape  from  Captivity       J 
Progress  as  made  by  the  Pilgrims  ....  59 

The  Revolution     ........      51 

The  Veterans  of  the  Revolution    .....  51 

6 


CONTENTS. 

i 

PAGE 

Industry  and  Habits  of  the   Generation  next  succeeding  the  ) 

[     52 
Revolution,  in  the  Seasons  of  J 

Haying 53 

Threshing  the  Grain           .....  54 

Harvesting  and  Husking  the  Corn  ...  55 

The  Sabbath-Day        .......  57 

Habits  of  the  Household  in  the  Olden  Time         .          .  .58 

Modern  Inventions      .......  59 

Progress  in  this  Valley  in  the 

Building  of  Cities             .           .           .           .           .  .60 

Turning  the  River  Power     .....  60 

Erecting  Manufactories    ....  .60 

Making  Progress  in  Science  as  well  as  Art       .          .  61 

The  Railroad  in  this  Valley,  and  its  Work            .           .  .62 

The  Telegraph  and  its  Work         .....  63 

Improvements  here  in  Husbandry      .           .           .          .  .64 

The    Six    CITIES,  —  Lowell,    Manchester,     Concord,    New-' 

buryport,  Lawrence,  and  Nashua,  with  the  Villes  and 

64  to  67 
Towns    on  the    MERRIMAC   in    their  various   Trades, 

Art,  Science,  and  Industry 

Of  the  many  renowned  Sons  of  this  Valley,  a  few  are  named, 
to  wit: 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

LOWELL    and    JACKSON,  famed    for    Force  of  Character,   and  ] 

[      60 
for  Knowledge  and  Skill  in  the  Arts  .  .  ) 

STARK  and  PIERCE,  known  to  Revolutionary  Fame    .           .  52 

WEBSTER  for  Eloquence                       .           .           .           .  ,67 

PARSONS  for  Law  and  Learning    .....  67 

AYER  for  the  extent  of  his  operations  in  the  Healing  Art  .      65 

WHITTIER  for  truthful  Song           .....  67 
The  Four  Years'  Rebellion;  and  the  rush  from  this  Valley  to 


id  tne  rusn  trom  this  Valley  to  \ 


.      68 
resist  it 

The  Force  employed  in  its  Overthrow    .  ...  69 

LINCOLN,  GRANT,  SHERMAN,  and  SHERIDAN  .  .  71,  72 

TISQUANTUM'S  Return  to  the  MERRIMAC  ...  73 

8 


THE  MERKEMAC. 


^LESTIAL  Bards !  in  magic  numbers  skilled 
We  tliee  invoke;  ivho,  blest  with  music  filled, 
Chant  high  in  heaven  above,  yet  present 

here, 

Deign   oft   to   witness   in   this    earthly   sphere 
What  mortals   do,  and   what   of  good   or   ill 
In   truthful   song  is   celebrated   still, 
And   what   of  beauty   grand   in   Nature   lives, 
What   Heaven   ordains   and  what  experience    gives, 
Yet   left   unsung,  —  inspired  attend,   repair 
Up   to   yon   mountain-top,  in  regions   fair, 
Where   prospect   wide   above   the   woodland   shade 
Unfolds   the   works   creative   wisdom   made, — 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

» 

Survey   proud   Merrimac/   whose   praise   we    sing, 
And   to   mine    aid   some   grateful  measure  bring, — 
Some   note    of  landscape   grand   in   dale   and   hill, 
Adorned   with   glittering   lake,  cascade,  or   rill, 
With   forest   wild,  with   winding   wave   between 
The    giant   groves   along   the   valley   green; 
Fair   floral   regions   sweet   at   early   dawn, 
And   fields    of  lilies   in   the   dewy   lawn, — 
Whatever   thy   vision   meets,   o'er   all   the   plain, 
From   mountain   height   to    ocean's   wide    domain, 
Of  rural   Nature   or   of  handy   Art, 
In   truthful   numbers   faithfully   impart. 
Nor  sights   alone   observe,   but  sound,   of  birds, 
The   lambkin-bleatings,   and   the   lowing   herds, 
The    cuckoo's   echo   at   the   close    of  day, 
And   wakeful   whippoorwill's   wild   warbling   lay, 
That  cheer  the  vale;  —  with  chime   of  village  bell, 
Which  wakes,  to  thought  divine,  Pilgrims  that  dwell 

10 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Along   the   broad   highway,  —  whose  voices   swell 
Praises   to   Him   who   "  doeth   all   things  well;"  — 

With  these  and  more,  our  humble    song  indite, 
That   tend   to   raise   the    soul   by   Nature's   light 
To   light   of  Heaven,  and   to   the   fruitful   source 
Whence   all   things    came    to    pass   and   took  their 
course. 

Sweet  river  !  thy  true  source,  which  angels  sung 
At   the   creation   when   the   world   begun, 
We   seek;    and   how   thy   rills    of  chaos,   born, 
First   leaped,   rejoicing   in   their  native   form;  — 
When  bleak   New  England's  height  began   to   rise, 
And  moon  and  stars  just  formed  lit  up  the  skies ; 
How    the    Great    God    on    high,   with   outstretched 
hand, 

Divided   waters   from   the   massive   land, 
11 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Scooped   the   vast   concave   of  the   ocean   bed, 
And   infant   channels   for   the    rivers   made ; 
And   how   and   when   his   wisdom   next   arranges 
To   move  the  stagnant   floods   by  natural  changes, 
Compel   the   seas   their  rugged   bounds   forsake, 
Becloud  the   hills,  and   shining   rivers   make ; 
To   make   thin   vapors,   heated   to   excess, 
On   ocean   more,   on   terra-tirma   less, 
Out   from   the   briny   waves   incessant   rise 
Above   the   hills,   and   back   to   other   skies, 
Combine   in   clouds,   and   vast  collections   form, 
Spreading  the   heavens   with   impending   storm.    • 
Whence   earth   itself  full   formed   begins   to   move 
Through   mighty   conflicts   by   the   hand   of  Jove 
Outward  and  onward  from   its   native   source 
Round  with  the  whirling  spheres  to  take  its  course. 

Now   then   the   forked   light,  ascending   high, 
12 


THE  MEBBJMAC. 

Unveils   the   terrors  of  a  troubled  sky ; 
Tempestuous   gales   in   darkness   intervene, 
Sweeping  the   world   with   liowlinys   in   extreme 
And  tJiunderings  loud ;  the  clouds,  let  loose  in  drops, 
Dash   down   their  showers   on   the   mountain-tops. 

Then    leap    the    streamlets    from   the   mountain- 
waste 

As   if  by   stern   command   requiring   haste, 
As   if   God's   power   with   screw  and   lever  plied, 
Squeezing   the   lofty  hills   to   raise   the   tide, 
Would   drown   the   earth   in   awful  floods   sublime, 
For   local   sin,   or    want   of  faith   divine, 
As   since   in   wrath   he   did   in   Noah's   time. 

Thus   at   creation's   dawn   did   Merrimac 
Begin   to   flow.      The   storm   subsides,   and   light, 
Bright  gleaming  sunbeams,  broke  from  sable  night. 

13 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

And  now  the  Sweeping  Wave,  with  banks  o'erflown, 
Brilliant  and   grand ,   'mid   azure   splendor  shone, 
Rolls  on,  —  and   with   accumulated   force 
Of  mighty   waters    on   their   destined   course 
Through    naked     banks,    ne'er    washed    by    waves 

before,  — 

Now   curving  o'er  the  cliff  with   dashing   roar 
Of  cataract ;    now   swelling  far  and   wide 
Down   sloping  vales    in   full  majestic  tide ; 
Then  gliding   smooth,   as   plain   or   meads    ensue, 
In   tranquil   pride    resplendent   bravely   through, 
Conveys   her   fountains   to   the   untried   shore 
Where  wave  or  flood,  had  never  reached  before, — 

To   form   a  sea,  and   on  the   world   bestow 
A  vast   highway,   with   tides   to    ebb   and   flow ; 
In  light   refulgent,   in   extent   sublime, 

To   swarm   with  joyous   life    through   endless   time, 

H 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

To   float   huge   ships   in   commerce   and   in   strife, 
Of  unborn   nations,   waking   into   life. 
Through   constant   heat   her   atoms   rise   again 
Floating   in   transit  backward   whence   they   came, 
Feeding   the    stream   with   purer   founts   anew, 
Which,   made   eternalj   onward   still   pursue ; 
Both   flood   and   vapor   in   one   circuit   run, 
Like   planet   in   her   orb   about   the   sun, 
Or,  like   the   life-blood   coursing  through   the  vein 
By   means   of  arteries   return   again, 
Sustaining  man's   frail   body   from   his   birth, — 
So   moving   waters   do   the   vital   earth  j 
Pervading   Nature's    germs  and   fibres   free, 
Upward   in   channels  creep  through  herb  and  tree, 
They   deck   the    daisy   in   her   checkered   bloom, 
And   swell   the   rose   to   yield   a   sweet  perfume, 
Are  felt  in  trunk,  in  branch,  in  bud  and  leaves, 
And  thence  escape  in  clouds,  borne  on  the  breeze ;  — 

15 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Emblem   of  the   "  Eternal  I "   in  their   round 
E'er  free   to   give,   but  ne'er   exhausted,   found. 

Next  near  the  shore  now  gliding  glittering  seen, 
Minnows   innumerotis   in   the   waters   green, 
Minute   in   size,   some   faster   fuller   grown, 
Each   for   an   end,   yet  then   unseen,   unknown, 
In   caves   now   playful   cautious   prone   to   be, 
Then    out   in   depth    of  waters   sporting   free, 
Each  draws  from  Heaven  the  fleeting  breath  of  life, 
Here   to   subsist   through   elemental   strife, 
Varied   in   species,   color,   and   in   form, 
Some   cold   in   temperament,   others   warm, 
Each   to   its   kind  attached,   prolific,  free 
To   seek   and   share   a   common   destiny. 
In   lapse   of  time,  from  tiny  minim   grown, 
The  whale  loomed  up  in  vast  proportion  shown, — 

Now   restless   seeks  more  spacious   depths  to  gain, 

• 

16 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

And  finds   a  homestead   in   the   briny  main. 
Huge  sturgeons,  too,  —  all  fish  of  larger  growth,- — 
Swelled  the  deep   current  seaward  splashing  forth  ; 
While    smaller   forms,   as   trout  and   pickerel, 
Inhabit  native   stream,  content   to  dwell 
Fresh-water   tenants,   tranquil   quite   as   yet, 
By   foe   unsought,   unhurt   by   hook   or   net. 

While   others   rove.      The   favorite    salmon   tries 
The   Arctic   seas,   in   light   of  other   skies ; 
Yet  oft  as  spring  betides   the   Merrimac, 
His   out-bound   path  he  fondly  follows   back 
With  finny  tribes.      Then  through  the  inlets  trace 
A   countless   progeny,   an   infant   race 
From  hidden  spawns,  to  swarm  the  harmless  shore, 
Then   gambol   outward,    onward-,   as   before, 
Quiet,  yet   quick   in  transit   to   and   fro, 
E'er  keen  to   see,   what   makes    for   weal   or   woe, 

17 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

They  drink   sweet  joys   in  light   of  nature   given, 
And   fill  a   purpose   grand,  ordained   of  Heaven. 

Meanwhile  the  tree  for  fruit  and  forest,  sprung 
From  latent  life  beneath   the   soil,   begun 
To    spread   in   varied   shadows   mother   earth, 
Verdant   and    fruitful ;   in  productive   birth, 
Alike    of  insects   strange,   of  beast  or   bird, 
In  pairs  connubial,  fit   for  flock  or  herd. 
As   thus   'mid  thicket  dense,  or   bower   green, 
In   earth   or  air,   at  first  half  hidden   seen, 
The   merest   mites;  —  thence   formed  and  fluttering 

move, 

Unfeathered   owls,  the  raven,  hawk,  and   dove  ;  — 
"Whence   flaunts   the   eagle   due   in  course   of  time, 
And   songsters,  warbling,  wing   for   every  clime. 
Whence   all   the   nervy   tenants    of  the   air, 

From   proudest  swan  to   flitting  insect  rare ; 
18 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Whence   clods   of  earth   and   drops  of  water  pure, 
First  fraught  with   life,   with   life   can   but   endure. 

Of  tardy   growth   sleek   whelps   in  tiny   form, 
From  latent   caverns   in   the   hill-side  warm, 
Of  lion   race,   and   beasts   of  other   kind, 
At  length   emerge   and   habits   varied   find. 

Then   next  from  curious  germ  beneath  the  sod, 
Now   blest   in   needful   care   of  Nature's   God, 
Whose   eye   all-seeing  here   began   to   scan 
The   strange   invention  of  mysterious  man, — 
By   vigorous   thrift,   as   fell   the   beaming   rays 
Of  Phoebus,   fitly   felt  on   vernal   days, 
Came   forth   an  Indian's*   infant  form   divine, 

*  The  natives  were  called  Indians  by  Columbus  through  mistake, 
who  at  first  supposed  he  had  arrived  on  the  eastern  shore  of  India, 
by  which  error  they  took  their  name. 

19 


THE   MERKIMAC. 

First   spawn   of  manhood   on   the   stream   of  time; 
Basking   in   valleys   wild,    earth-formed,   earth-fed 
For   ripened   age,  —  by   native    reason   led, 
And   chief  o'er   beast  and   bird   in   power  became 
A  fitful   terror   to   the   timid   game. 

Increased  at  length  by  nature's   self-same   laws 
To   numerous   tribes   prolific,   men   and   squaws, 
From   artful   wigwams   new,  spread   o'er  the   land, 
First   skill   evinced   in   architecture    grand, 
He   wanders   wild,   belted   with   arrows   keen, 
And  blest  with  knowledge  right  and  wrong  between, 
A   stately   Priest  at   peace.     Provoked   to   strife, 
He   wields   a  hatchet  and  a   scalping-knife 
With   dire   revenge.     E'er  true  to  self  and  squaw 
He   knows   no   faith,   no    code,   but   Nature's   law. 
His   footsteps  fondly   dwell   where   now   we   trace 
Primeval   heirlooms  of  the   human   race ; 

20 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

The   chisel   smooth  and  tomahawk  first  made 
Of  stone,   ere   Art  had   formed   the   iron  blade ; 
Where,   from   a  narrow   dock   with   native   crew, 
He   launched,   in  naval   pride,   the   first   canoe 
And   ploughed  the   Merrimac.     His   dripping   oar 
Ripples   the   waters   never  pressed  before, — 
Bestirs   the   scaly   tribes   to   nervous   fear 
For   rights  most   sacred  thus   invaded   here. 
As  if  by   instinct  they   the   chieftain   knew 
To   be   a  tyrant  and   a   glutton  too, 
Intent  on  native   beast,   on  bird   or  fish, 
By   slaughter   dire   to   fill  a  dainty   dish ; 
Whose   webs  are   nets  from  bark   of  trees   alone, 
And  mills  that  grind  are  mortars  made  of  stone ; 
Who  clothed   his   tribes,  if  clad  they  e'er  appear, 
In   raiment   plundered  from  the  bounding   deer; 
Who  maketh  treacherous  hooks  from  guiltless  bones, 
And   drags   a   deadly  net   o'er   sacred   homes. 

21 


THE   MEGRIM  AC. 

And   thuSj  o'er  land   and   stream  for  ages   long, 
A   race   of  red  men,   vagrant,   plod   along, 
With  language,  taught  from  rustic  Nature's  throne, 
And   habits,   each   peculiarly   their   own ; 
On   growth   spontaneous   fed,   content   with   prey, 
What   serves   the   purpose  of*  a   single   day. 
Their   God   is   seen   afar   at  rise   of  sun ; 
Their  life   in   heaven   is   hunting  here   begun; 
By   laws   unwritten,   Sachems   rule   the   tribes, 
And   lead   the   host,   wherever   ill   betides, 
To   fatal  war.      By   force   of  arrows,   hurled, 
They  reigned  sole  monarchs  in  this  western  world. 

The  countless  years  thus  passed  of  man's  career, 
Fraught   with  achievements   oft   enacted  here ; 
With   works  of   skill,   what    human    thought   could 

do; 
With  grand  exploits,  or  deeds  of  direful  hue; 

22 


THE   MEREIMAC. 

With  kings  and  prophets,  chief  in  note  or  wortn, 
Through   generations   vast,   transpired   on   earth, 
Make   but  a  blank  in  time's   historic   lore, 
Till  voyagers  from   another  world   came   o'er;  — 
Columbus   first  of  all ;    then  many  more 
Within   a  hundred   years,   then   next,   before 
The   Pilgrims   land,3 — adventurers   indeed, — 
From  Adam  sprung,  juniors  in  race  and  breed, 
But   versed   in   letters,  statute   law,  and  art, 
Seniors   in   science,  just  in   head   and  heart. 

They  meet  old   SQUANTO  wandering  here  alone, 
Who,  sore  depressed,  bereaved  of  friends  and  home, 
Recounts   events   which  true   tradition   brought, 
Of  Indian   life,   what  sad   experience   taught, 
ITow,   far  and  near,  the  dead  unburied  lay, 
His   own   Patuxet   tribes   all   swept  away ; 
Yet  nations   seaward,   deep   in   woods   afar, 
23 


THE    MERRIMAC. 

Spared   from   the   scourge  of  pestilence   and  war, 
Still   thrive.      There   Massasoit,  whose   power  main 
tains 
The   peace   of  tribes,  in  full  dominion  reigns. 

From  thence    SAMOSET  comes,  with    heart    and 

hand, 

To  "welcome  Englishmen"  and   grant  them  land; 
His   visage   dark   with   long  and   raven   hair, — 
No  treacherous  marks  his  beardless  features  bear; 
With   frame   erect   and   strangely   painted   o'er, 
Belted   around  his   loins,   a   Sagamore, 
Whose   bony  arm   a  bow   and   arrow   held, 
A   heart   unsoiled  his  tawny  bosom   swelled 
To  generous  deeds.     He  broken  English  spake, 
And   talked   anon  of  men,  —  of  Francis   Drake,2 
That   gallant   white  man,  years   before   who   came, 

And   gave   New  Albion   her   historic  name, — 

24 


THE   MERRJMAC. 

Of  Captain   Smith  who   since   surveyed   the   coast, 
And   other   voyagers,   now   a   scattered   host,  — 
Of  former   days   some   history   tried   to   give, 
And  "lay  of  land"  where   rambling  red  men  live. 
Truthful   SAMOSET   proves,   and  seeks   to   bring 
The   Pilgrim  saints   in  audience   with   his   king. 

Then   Massasoit,   the   king,  and   chiefs   appear ; 
As  well   the  governor   and  suit   draw  near, 
By   music   led,   and   soldiers   at  command, 
Clad   in   the   homespun  of  a  foreign   land, 
And   greet  the  king.      The  king  no   armor   bears, 
Save   on   his   breast  a  knifelike   weapon   wears, 
White   beads   about   his   neck,   a   gaudy   ring, 
And   quaint   tobacco   bag,   suspended   by   a   string, 
Comprise   the   insignia   of  his   regal   power, 

Known  and  observed   of  nations   as   of  yore. 

25 


THE  MEERIMAC. 

Both   king    and    chiefs,  with    painted    features, 

wear 

Feathers   disjoined   from  birds   of  plumage   rare, 
But  little   else.     Kindly  in   turn   they   greet4 
The  Pilgrim  band,  and   down   in   group   now  seat 
Themselves,   holding  discourse   of  allied   strength 
In  treaty,6   and,   when   all  agreed,   at  length, 
They   pass   the   pipe   around,  each  drink*   in   turn. 
A  sacred   compact  thus   they   all   confirm, — 
A  treaty  wise,  that  full   contentment   gives 
For  fifty  years   while   Massasoit  lives. 

SQUANTO  meanwhile  who'd  served  a  peaceful  end, 
And   in   the   Pilgrims'    God  had   found   a   Friend, 
Bereaved  and  worn  by   care  of  bygone   years 
In   mazy   pathways   through   a  vale   of  tears, 
Falls   sick ;   and   as   by   fever   low   depressed, 
And  life   in   doubt,   to  Pilgrims   thus   addressed 

26 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

His  sovereign  will :  "  This  hunting-ground  is  mine ; 
The  lakes,  the  vales,  those  mountain  heights  sublime, 
The  green-grown  banks  where  Merrimac  bright  glows 
And  all   the  hills   far   as  Pawtucket   goes, — 
These   spacious  wilds,   my   kindred,   now   no   more, 
In   full   dominion  held,   and   hunted   o'er ; 
Then   dying,   all   their   titles   thence   descend 
To  me,  TisQUANTUM,7   now   so  near   this   end 
Of  life.     To  thee,  my  Pilgrim   Friends,   I  give 
This    broad    domain ;     here     may    the    white     man 

live ;  — 

My   bow  and   arrow,  too,  —  I   give   thee   all. 
Hence   let   me   go,  obedient  to   the  call 
Of  angel   Death.     Adieu!" 

Thus   gracious   dies 

The  last  red  man  beneath  Patuxet  skies, 
And  thus   the  English   sole   possession   share, 
By  will  from   SQUANTO,   all   this  region   fair, 

27 


THE  MERR1MAC. 

Forever   thence,   to   lay   the   forest   low, 

To  fence  fair  fields,  and  drive  the  crooked  plough, 

To   waste   the   wigwams   which   for  ages   spread 

The  wild,  and  build  broad  mansions  in  their  stead ; 

Schoolhouses,   temples   to   the   GOD   of  grace, 

And   cities   proud,   peculiar  to   the   race 

Of  Adam.     Diligent   through  honest  toil, 

They   reap   rich   harvest  from   the  virgin   soil. 

From   culture   urged  with  bold,   aggressive   sway, 

Wild   beasts,   becoming  frantic,   flee   away. 

As  ravenous  bears  and  moose   and  wolves  recede 

Black-cat-tle   and   the   noble   horse   succeed 

In   aid  of  husbandry.8     Full  flocks   abound ; 

The   herds  increase   as   roll  the   seasons  round; 

The   desert  e'en,   through   culture's   grateful   care, 

Soon  set  with  fruit,  begins  to   bloom  and  bear; 

Fair   Nature   smiles   responsive   to   the   plan 

Of  faith   in   God  and  industry  of  man, 

28 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Next   follows   war.      Dread   anarchy   appears, 
As   if  to   blast   the    crowning   thrift   of  years 
At   death   of  MASSASOIT.     Philip   succeeds 
As   king,9   and  hostile   to   the  whites   proceeds 
To   flagrant   deeds ;    and   first  of  all   in   time, 
A  native   priest,*   suspected  of  no   crime 
But   to  have   broached   a   secret   plot,   is   slain 10 
By   murderous   hand.     On   Philip   rests   this   stain 
Of  blood;   and  Justice   stern   but   waits   to    draw 
Her  penal   sword  by   force    of  English   law 
Against  the   natives.     'Tis   not  long   withheld; 
By  strong  indictment   seized,  arraigned,  and  held, 
Tobias  and   confederates   are   tried 
By  petit-jury,   white   and   red   allied, 
Whose   doubtful  jurisdiction   Philip    pleads, 
And  to   address   the   Forum   thus   proceeds :  — 

*  John  Sassamon. 
29 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

"What  right,  what  law,  these   prisoners   to   ar 
raign 

Have   Englishmen   in   this   my  own   domain? 
What  lease   of  venue   from   allotted   lines 
To   make   invasion   and  adjudge   of  crimes  ? 

n 

Why  seek   the   Indian's  life   in   guile   forlorn  — 
Of  these   three   men  of  native   mothers  born; 
Who,   one   and   all,   with   SASSAMON,   the   slain, 
Were  my  liege  subjects,  bound  by  laws  the  same 
Which   governed  tribes   a  thousand  years  ago, 
But  which   evaded  brings   an   endless  woe  ? 
What  mind,  what  project,  prompts   your  boundless 

sway 

But  hence   to   drive   the   red  man   far  away 
From  this  fair  lard,  his  birthright  and  his  wealth, 
And  hold  these  regions  vast  through  royal  stealth  ? 
With  flagrant  wrong  the  tribes  will  ne'er  concur, 

And   to   your  bold   intrusion   I    demur ! 

30 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

My   subjects   here   an   English   court  may   try ; 
By   spurious  judgments,   they  may   fall   and   die ; 
Yet  vengeance  dread  shall  point  the  red  man's  steel, 
And   to   the   God   of  battles   I'll   appeal." 

Philip   withdrew,   and   ne?er   returned   again ; 
His   truthful   talk  was   uttered   but   in  vain. 
The   prisoners   held  and   thus   condemned  to   die 
Brought   darkness  gathering   o'er   the  western  sky. 
"  The   bloody   sunset "   and   the   forked  light 
That  broke   the   curtain   of  that   fearful   night, 
Awaking  English  matrons,  'mid   alarms, 
To   hug   sweet  infants  with  tenacious   arms, 
Foretold   gross   carnage  of  successive   years 
And   devastation   in   a  land  of  tears. 

i 
True  to  his  word,  which  prudence  thus  defied, 

Philip   the   Pilgrims   fought,   and,   fighting,    died,11 

31 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

With  countless   victims  by  the   self-same  blade, 
Which  mutual  madness  had  in  folly  made. 

And  which   in  blood  by   oft-recurring   strife 
Through   conflicts   desperate   kindled   into   life 
By  hate   implacable   still   lingering  long 
Avenges   PHILIP'S   death,   and   flagrant  wrong 
Kemembered  well,  encroachments  rash,  designed, 
Repeated  oft,  as   self  had  long  inclined 
The  strangers  here.     But  through  the  lapse  of  time, 
Whence   wayward  hearts   to   better   faith   incline, 
Whence   discord  wanes   away,  —  then   truth  began 
To  shed  with  light  the  vagrant  paths   of  man ; 
Distracted  foes  their  errors   soon  discern, 
And  back  to  reason  once  again  return. 

Then  Peace,  that  welcome  harbinger   of  health, 

Of  generous  thrift,  foreshadowing  weal  and  wealth, 

32 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Brings  her  glad  tidings  down  and  cheers  the  land, 
With  prompt  good-will,  and  noble  deeds  at  hand, 
To   heal  the   broken   heart,   to   make   amends 
For  wilful  waste,   which   from   the   past   descends. 

Thence  this  fair  vale  from  mountain  to  the  main 
In   vernal   grandeur  buds   to   bloom   again, 
And   plenteous   harvest   with  her   golden   ears 
Crowning   the   prudence   of  progressive   years 
Adorns   the   field,   and   grace   triumphant   gives 
To   honest   toil.     Here    WoNALANCET13    lives 
Unscathed   by   war,   a   sachem   wise   and  true, — 
Of  fragment   tribes   still   roving   far   and   few 
Along   these   banks  where  PENNAKOOKIS  had   stood 
For   countless   years,   through   tempest,   storm,   and 

flood ;  — 

And   further   seaward   where   WAMESIT"   lies, 
Still   well   intrenched,  a   wigwam   city   thrives, 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

Rightly   reserved   the   home   of  hunters  here, 
A  fort   within,   and  habitations   dear 
To  friendly  red  men.     While  from  dearth  released, 
From  scourge  of  conflict  and  in  strength  increased, 
Through   many  a  favored   year   the  Pilgrim  mind, 
By   faith   and   works,   religious   freedom   find ; 
Such  as   the  Fathers   sought  and  had   foretold 
Should   come,   in   grace   abounding  as   of  old. 

At  length  the  French  with   England  disagree, 
Which  next  portends  what  carnage  hence  shall  be, 
What  man's   estate  must  prove,  —  a  varied   life ;  — 
From  quiet  peace   proceeds   terrific  strife; 
From   plenty,  dearth;   from   faith   and   virtue,   sin; 
From  health,   disease,   that   wages   war   within. 

Thus   strangely   intermixed   are   good   and  ill; 
True   to   the   purpose   of  a   sovereign   will 

34 


THE  MEEBIMAC. 

Nature   but  thrives   by   fire   that  burns   within, 
From   planets  broken,  other   worlds   begin. 
Yet  bloody   conflicts,  such  the   world  abhor 
As   mark  the   advent  of  avenging  war; 
And   such   the   crime   that   now   involves   the   race, 
Fraught   with   its   cruel   curse   and   deep   disgrace, 
That  through   successive   years   again   devours 
The   vital   substance   of  contending  powers. 

From  war-whoops   wild,  and    earth    in   crimson 

glow, 

A  wail   goes  up,  —  a  note  of  woman's  woe ! 
Fierce  vengeance   tempts   her  singleness  of  heart, 
Her  heroism  true,  her  guileless  art, 
Her  purity,  her   own  maternal  care, 
Her  faith  in  God,   that  never   knows   despair, 
Her  love  indeed,   that   triumphs   most  and  best 

In  trial  sad,   when   most   by   danger   pressed; 

35 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Whose  trutJi  endures,  when  fails   our  vital  breath, 
Inspires  fond  hope,  and  smooths  the  bed  of  death. 

Such  were    the    hearts    whose    wails   went    up 

afar, 

That  brooked   the   fury   of  King  William's   War ;  " 
Whose  just  protection,  savages  defied, 
And   dearest  hopes   of  house   and   home   denied ; 
Around  her  hearth  from   hidden   ambush   springs 
The  lurking  foe,  and  death,   with   horror,   brings. 

And    this  is  war!  —  and  such  in  wrath  makes 

haste 

To  lay  the  white   man's  cot  and  village  waste ; 
That  deals   in  daggers   poisoned,  —  coated  o'er,  — 
The  fagot  torch,    and  gluts   on  human  gore. 

Against  such  crime  the  settlers  strong   unite ; 


THE  MERR1MAC. 

In   various   ways   they   rally   for   the   fight ; 
Some   seek   defence  by  force   of  gun   and   dogs ; 
Some   take   to   garrisons,   strong  built   of  logs, 
And   some   in   squads   with   weapons   rude  assail 
The  foe,   and   fierce   pursue   the   hidden  trail. 
'Twas  so  at  NEWBURY  and  at    BRADFORD   TOWN, 
Far  further  north   and   seaward  further   down, 
Along  the   vale   where'er   the   white   man   dwelt, 
Still  unprovoked   the   selfsame   scourge   was   felt. 

And  at  old  HAVERHILL,  as  "  MATHER  " la  tells, 
The  flaring  fagot  burns   where   DUSTIN  dwells. 
That  faithful  father,   frenzied   to   dismay, 
Hastens   the   flight   of  children   far  away, 
But  not  the   infant ;   that  in  wrath  is   slain. 
Its   mother,   captured,   trudges   in   the   train 
Of  savages ;    while   in   the   clouds   are   shown 
The   crackling   ruins   of  an  English  home. 

37 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

The   tribes   evade   pursuit;   they  skirt  the   glen, 
Fast  hastening  through  the  fields  away,  and  then 
Dense   woods   and   sable   night   conceal   the  foe ;  — 
There,  couched  on  broken  boughs  in  beds  of  snow, 
Repose   they   seek.     Still   mindful   of  the   past, 
Her  heart  depressed,  by  sleep   benumbed   at   last, 
There   dreams   that  mother,   weary,   sick,   at   rest, 
Of  happy  home,  —  of  father,   children   blest,  — 
Of  life's   sweet  joys   profusely,   kindly   given, — 
Of  angel  visits   from  the    throne   of  Heaven, — 
Of  that  true   bliss   religious   life   inspires, 
That  wafts   the   soul  above   earth's  frail   desires, — 

Thus    moved     congenial    thought    her    dreamy 

mind 

As  moved   that  mighty   forest   in   the  wind, — 
Thus,  on,  —  till  twilight  gray  with   breaking   beam 

Now   turns   the   tenor  of  a   fleeting   dream; 

38 


THE  MERKIMAC. 

When  half  aroused,  before   her  vision  gaze 
Appear  grim  visages  and  fagot  blaze ;  — 
Tall  spectres,  gaunt,  whose  garments  drip  with  gore 
From  that  infanticide  the   day   before, 
Wrought  strange  convulsions.      Whence  that  fear 
ful   wail? 
'Twas  Hannah  Dustin,17  waking  for  the  trail. 

Her  dark  brown    hair   back    on    her   shoulders 

spread, 

The  frosts  of  night  still  on  her  garments  laid. 
At  sight  of  death,   at   sound   of  war-whoop  cry, 
Avenging  justice  flashes  in  her  eye ; 
Still,  far   beyond  the   cloud-capt  tree-tops,   shown, 
There   gleamed   in  prospect  yd  another  home ; 
Light  paints  a  tinge  upon  her  pallid  brow, 
And  up  to   God  above   she  made  a  vow ; 
For  on  the  trees  are  marks  of  kindred  blood, 

39 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

And  vengeance  just  is  whispered   in  the  wood. 
Firm   as   the   granite  hills  that  brave  the   storm, 
That  mother's   will  is  fixed,   and  waxes   warm. 
Yet  held   to   follow   through   the   rugged  way, 
Kept   equal   step   for   many   a   weary   day 
('Twas   death   to   falter   'mid  a   savage   throng) 
With   Mary   Neff18   and  boy,19   all   move   along 
Through  winding  paths  and  tangled  wildwood  fens, 
Where   prowled    the   wolf,   and  where   the   serpent 

dens, 

Declivities   they  wind,  and   ford   the   brooks 
That  leap  the  mountain  pass   from   granite  rocks ; 
Thence   in   dark  thicket,   then   in   sunlight   gleam, 
And   then  in   boats   of  birch  on   spacious   stream, 
Up   where   old   Contoocook  unites   in   pride 
With  Merrimac,  profound  in   rolling  tide ; 
There,  on   an  island  wildt  are   captives  shown 

The  wigwam  rude,  an  Indian's  favored  home. 

40 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

And  there  on  mats,  around   the  camp-fire  flame, 
Seated   in   group,  they  glut   the  slaughtered   game, 
"Which  hunger  sought;  and  night,  now  gathering  in, 
Spreads   her   dark   mantle   o'er   the   woods  within ; 
While   from   afar,   a   gentle   zephyr   breeze 
Plays   grateful   music    on   the   waving   trees, 
Inviting  rest  from   th'   rambling   drudge    of  day, 
That  Julls   the   spirit   from   the    world   away. 

Still   does   that   zephyr  omens   strange    portend, 
A   baleful   bickering,  some   tragic    end; 
Yet  ne'er  more  safe,  ne'er  less  by  danger  pressed, 
Than   felt   the    drowsy   foe   reclined   at   rest;  — 
And  sleep  sonorous,  which    fatigue   inspires, 
Drowns   deep  the  tribe  in  front  of  midnight  fires. 

Then   rose   that  mother,  noiseless,  moving  near 

To   Neff,   breathes   mandates   startling    to    her    ear ; 

41 


THE  MEREIMAC. 

To   Samuel,   too,   her  vent   of  vengeance   went 
That  fired  his  heart.     They  move  with  joint  intent 
And   signal   stealth.     Around  the   foe   they   felt, 
And   drew   a  tomahawk  each,   from  the  belt, 
That  touched  his  loins;   and  then  erect  they  stand 
Lifting   that  bloody  blade  with   heedful   hand ;  — 
Down   on   his  guilty  head,  three  times  they  strike, 
And  three  times  three  DEATH  follows,  each  alike. 

No  groan  nor  sigh  is  heard,  nor  sign  of  woe ; 
But   stiff  and   cold   there  lies   the   bloody   foe 
'Neath  clouds  of  night;  the  wigwam  embers  fade, — 
And   phantom-shadows   stalk   along   the    glade 
In  depth  of  woods.     The  hills  are  hushed  aloof, — 
No   voice,   save   from   the    owl   or   hungry   wolf, 
That   clamors   for  his  prey. 

Yet  as   these   three, 

Once   captive   bound,  now   turn   away,   thus  free, 

42 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

Bright    beaming   stars,   through    parted   clouds   be 
tween, 

True   guides   intent   from   Heaven's   arch   serene, 
Look   down;    while   truth,  still   valiant   to   prevail 
O'er   wrong,   and  justice    stern   with   even   scale, 
Approve   the   deed;    and   from   that   crimson  glade, 
That   dark,   lone    wigwam   with   unburied   dead, 
Relieved,  yet   sad,   they  board   a  light   canoe 
To  dip   the   oar  in   hope   of  home,   pursue 
Adown   bright   Merrimac  in   generous   tide, 
That    bears    the    craft    on    high    through    borders 

wide,  — 

Thence   paddling  east,  they   gain   a  favored   shore 
Above   the   fall,   where   troubled   waters   roar 
Below,  —  all   safe   at  land. 

The   day-star  rose, 
Nature   anon   awakes   from  night's   repose, 

Wild  birds  from   far  thick   gathered   in   the   trees 

43 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Warble   sweet   welcome   on   the  morning  breeze 
To   strange   adventurers ;    while   all   that   day 
Along   the   winding   shore   that  leads   the   way 
To  Haverhill,   they   thoughtful  trudge   and   talk, 
What   each   had   seen   in   life's  bewildered   walk,  — 
Of  childhood   years  beguiled  with   favorite   toys, — 
Of  love, —  of  home   delights, —  of  buried  joys. 

Thus   did  the   women   mutual   converse   hold, 
Till   Samuel   from   mutest  manner   cold 
Bespoke   them   thus.     "What  mean  these   signs  of 

pain? 
These   crimson  marks    that    through   my   garments 

stain  ? 

Did  such  from   veins   of  Bampaco   descend, 
Who   gave   me   bow   and   arrow   as   a  friend? 
Truth  undisguised   these   morning  beams   disclose, 
The   sure   avenger  of  his   dying  woes ! 
44 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Unwelcome   tints !    they   haunt  my  homeward   way 

And   at  the   threshold   threatened   to   betray 

Me   there.     Shall   I,   long-lost,   a   mother's   boy, 

Keturn  and  pangs  impart   instead   of  joy 

To  such  a  heart  ?     No,  —  leave  me  here  ;   unknown 

To   seek   some   hidden   cave   aloof  from   home ; 

Or   send   me,   captive   bound,   to    dwell  again 

In   tents,   afar   from   her   who   mourns   me    slain, — 

Whence   crime   concealed   shall   never  vent   a  stain 

Nor  rumor   sad   to   blot  a   cherished   name." 

He   said,  and   there   half  halting   stood 

Till  Mary   chides   him   in   a   different  mood ;  — 

"  I   pray   thee,   Samuel,   list  to   me   awhile,  — 

Misgivings   sad  attend   but  to   beguile 

Thy   youth.     But  list,  —  they   move   me   to   descry 

In   wrong,  if  thou   art   guilty,   so   am   I ; 

45 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

For  at  the   war-whoop   cry   I   could   have   fled, 
And   shunned   captivity,  its   horrors   dread ; 
Yet   would   not  yield   to   fate   that   infant   dear, 
Nor   fail   my   mistress   kind   through    selfish  fear. 
Alarmed,   I   seized   it   from   the    cradle   there ;  — 
That   life,   I   begged   a   furied   fiend   to   spare 
At   risk   of  self.     Yet   we   no   favor   gain; 
Our  plea,   our   prayers   most   fervent,   all   in   vain ! 
Impelled,  from  horrors  which  this  heart  had  stung, 
To   our  liege  mother  and   to   thee   I   clung, 
In  bonds   a   comrade   held,   a   volunteer 
In   all  the   dangers   dread   of  such   career. 
I've   more   to   fear  than  thou,   who,   found  alone, 
Wert   forced   at   Worcester  from   parental   home 
By  brutal   foes.      Grim   cruelties   they   sought, 
But   on  themselves   relentless   vengeance   brought, 
In   which   an   agent   I  indeed   was   one 
To   bear  a   part  in  wrong,  if  wrong  were   done  — 

46 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

If  in   the   shed   of  blood   a  crime   it  be, 
To   break   from   hell-born  bondage   to   be   free, 
Then   is   the   fault  in  me   much   more   than   thee, 
Who   had   no    choice   of   lot   nor   chance   to   flee. 
Yet   have    I   faith   from   inward   teachings    given, 
Life's   freedom   gained   is  justified   of  Heaven ; 
Whose   care   paternal  henceforth   let  us   trust, 
As   did  our  fathers,   faithful  from   the   first." 

Thus  did  they  talk  of  self,  of  wrong  and  right, 
Meandering  along  till   late   at  night 
Through  narrow  pathways,  hindered  now  and  then 
By   tangled  thicket   dark,  by   brook   and   fen. 
Then  next  by  range  of  hills,  where  lies  at  length 
A  deep  ravine,  and  there,  through  lack  of  strength, 
They   turn   aside   beneath   a   shelving  rock 
O'ergrown  of  spreading  pines;    thither   to  stop, 
Inclined   to   rest;    but   fain   would   wakeful  keep, 

47 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

Yet,  lost  anon  by  force   of  needful   sleep, 
Remain   still   there,   till   morn's   refulgent   ray 
Reflected  on  the   wave  of  NASHUA,20 
Cast  varied  shadows   in  the   branchy   wood 
Around   the   group. 

There   "mother  Dustin"   stood 
Invoking  favors   from   the   throne   of  God 
To   be   bestowed   in   coming  time   for   good 
For  MARY  NEFF,  for  SAMUEL  the   same, 
Her  pilgrim  comrades,  whence   deliverance  came— 

And  briefly  now,  as  ended  then  her  prayer, 
Addressed  them   each   in  turn   still   waiting  there 
In   kindness  thus:     "Mary,   to   thee   I   owe 
Much  more   of  debt  than   I   can   e'er  bestow 
Of  earth's   reward.     Thy  truthfulness   of  heart, 
Thy   generous   constancy,  thy   guileless  art, 

In  trial   proved,   this   thankful  soul   reveres; 
48 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

May   blessings,   Mary,  crown   thy  future   years; 
My   home   is   thine,   if  home   I   see  again, 
Devoutly  favored   thou   shalt  there   remain. 

"And  you,   dear   Samuel,  valiant  in   the  past, 
Honest   in   purpose,   faithful   to    the   last, 
No   more   should   doubt.     To   savages   belong 
The   retribution   of  relentless   wrong, 
And   not  to   thee.     Are   not   His   dealings  just 
Who   Israel   led?     Shall   we    our  God   distrust? 
No.  —  Brood   no   more  of  doubts,  most  noble  boy! 
Go,   seek   thy   way   to   Worcester ;    bear   true  joy 
To   her   who   bore   thee,  and   whose   hallowed    care 
Shall  haste   thee    onward   to   her   presence   there, 
Still  undisguised,  in  truth  of  God  still  led, 
Wash  not  a  stain  from  out  thy  ga-rments  red. 
Thy  deeds  but  known    shall  welcome  truth  impart ; 
They'll  prove  the  valor   of  a  valiant   heart. 

49 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Take  yonder  skiff;   'twill  be  no   trespass   done, 
For   thee   it  drifted  from   a  fate   unknown. 
For  thee   my  voice  in  thanks   shall  hence  ascend  ; 
Away !    and   blessings  on   thy  life  attend." 

Still  loath  to  part,  yet  harboring  doubts  no  more, 
The   lad,  wide  wafted   on  the  westward   shore, 
His   beckoning   paddle  raised;   with  aprons,  too, 
The  women,  answering,  waved  their  last  adieu. 

Thence   turning,  —  tearful,   meditating  mild 
On  distant  •"  dear  ones"  wandered  through  the  wild, 
And  Haverhill  reached :  —  to  whom,  from  governors 

even, 
Came   generous   gifts   and  thankful   plaudits   given. 

And    there    they   rest.      There    upward    points, 
to-day, 

60 


THE   MERRIMAC. 


A   monument   of  stone   from   Dustings    clay. 


ifer  noble   deeds   are   held   in   high   renown, 

; .  •  '    ' 

Sacred  like   heirloom  in   that   ancient  town ; 

And  long  as   Merrimac's   bright   waters   glide 
Shall   stand  that  mother's  fame,  still  by  its  side. 

Such  were  the  bickerings  that  brought  the  woes 
Of  WiUiam's  time  ;   which  from  the  tribes  arose 
Through   sordid   hate,  that  rankled  in  the  place 
Of  gospel  truth,  unknown  to   such  a  race. 

Enough  of  war.     Yet    others  still   there  were 
Profuse  in  blood.     'Tis  manrs  estate  to  err. 
Let  pass    Queen  Anne's,*1   the   troubles   of  her   day, 
The    craft   of  Jesuits,   fruitful   of  dismay ; 
Nor  need  to   note  the  French  and  Indian**   strife, 
Nor   trace   the   torch,   the   tomahawk,   and  knife 

Further.     'Tis   now    the    olive-branch    divine, 

61 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

That   springs   from   culture's   agency   benign, 
With  better  deeds   the   record  to   embalm, 
Succeeds  the  war  of  Wolf  against  Montcalm. 

Now  industry   with  thrift  again  moves   on, 
Blest   in   the   fruits  of  earth   and  arts   anon, 
While  Science  fair  her  grateful  tribute  brings, 
And   Charity,  with   healing  in   her  wings, 
To  faith  and  works.     The  colonies  incline 
To   independence,  and   in   strength   combine ; 
The  tribes   remote   from   civil  life   retire, 
Still  wandering  wild  as  wont   through  frail  desire, 
Leave  free  the  field  to  prosper  many  a  year 
Unstained  of  war,  in  fruitful  bounties  fair. 

Then  self-control  begins  to  seek  solution, 
A  thirst  for  freedom  threatens  revolution. 

At  first  provoked  by  Britain's  indiscretion, 
62 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

Her   power  assumed,  her  flagrant   legislation, 
And  other  wrongs,  invasion  comes   at  length, 
Resistance  follows, — then  a  tug  at  strength 
Full  seven  years.23     On  hostile  fields,  engaged, 
The  armies  gathered,  and  the  battle  raged. 

John  Bull,  in  strength  of  scientific   drill, 
Inflamed  the  ardor  of  untutored  skill ;  — 
The  Yankee's  fire-lock  belched  terrific  flame, 
Against  whose  vengeance  science  was  but  vain ;  — 
And  scythe  and  pitchfork  wielded  for  the  right 
The  better  weapons  proved,  in  such  a  fight. 
True  valor  thus  from  pilgrim  hearts  of  yore, 
Drove  the  brave  Britons  from  Columbia's  shore. 

Then  through  the  vale,  the  Veteran  we  trace, 
Firm  in  deportment,  faithful  to  his  race, 
Down  from  the  fields  of  conquest  and  renown, 

53 


THE   HER  RIM  AC. 

Observed  of  all  the  host,  the  heroes  of  the  town ;  — 
BEN.  PiERCE24  is  there  far  seen  amid  the  throng, 
With  laurels  crowned,  they  wind  the  way  along ;  — 
And  there's  old  JOHN25  who,  when  the  field  was  dark, 
Would  risk  his  life  at  risk  of    "  Molly  Stark." 
These  were  our   fathers,  manly   in  their  might 
From  whom  descended  liberty  and  right. 

Where  now  they  rest  shall  fragrant  flowers  grow; 
Their  valiant  deeds  shall  coming  ages  know ; 
And  filial  care  shall  cherish  evermore, 
That  noble  tree  they  planted  at  our  door. 

So   wasteful  revolution   passed  away 
Like  darkest  hour,  foreshadowing  brilliant  day. 

Now  smiling  spring  comes  in  from  winter's  blast 

To  swell  the  seed ;    and  now  the  bloom  is  past ; 

54 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Productive  seasons  flit  their  hours  away, 
Each  warms  the  world  in  bounty  day  by  day, 
That  living  things  in  nature  may  survive, 
That  man  and  beast  that  come  and  go  may  thrive, 
From  varied   gifts  subsistence  we  devise, 
And   in   due   season   gather  in  supplies. 
The   husbandman  hath  care  for  weighty  sheaves, 
Yet  for  a  time   unthreshed   the   grain   he   leaves ; 
While  down  the   meadow,  mowers  all   the  way 
Swing  swath  on  swath  of  verdant  heavy  hay, — 
Tagged    there   by  Johnny,  tossing  it  in  air, 
To  make  the  crop  while  yet  the  field  is  fair ; 
The   rakers   next,  —  the  teamster  in  his  turn,     * 
With  rugged  cart  and   oxen,  comes   anon, 
Each  vies  in  strength,  in  manly  ardor  shown, 
To  glean  the  glen,  and  bear  the  harvest  home. 
But  when  dark  clouds  thick  gather  o'er  the  sky, 

They  quit  the  fumid  field  to  thresh  the  rye, 

55 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Up  to  the   barn,  a   grandsire   built   of  old, 
Where  frightened  swallows  weary  wings  unfold 
Above.     There  face  to  face  within  the   door, 
In  squads   divided  on  the    spacious  floor ;  — 
The  heavy  sheaves  lay  head  to  head  between, 
The  swinging  flails  liigli  in  the  air  are  seen, 
Blow  follows  blow,  and  strength  to  strength  they  vie, 
The  bundles  bounding  rattle  out  the  rye. 

As  when  two  charioteers  by  Bacchus  strong 
Inflamed,  now  homeward  lash  their  steeds  along 
O'er  yonder  bridge,  —  swift  whirl  the  wheels 

around 

By   dint   of  trial,  —  and   heavy  hoofs   rebound. 
So   from  the   floor  the   farmer's  noisy  flail 
.Reverberates  aloud  along  the  vale, — 

Then  note,  when  evening  gathers  o'er  the  plain, 
56 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Now  laid  at  length  a  heavy  heap  of  grain; 
There  to  be  winnowed,  when  old   Boreas  blows, 
Then  high  the  chaff  in  cloudy  current  flows, 
And  from   the   lifted  measure   shaken   seen, 
The  grain   in   conic  pile  falls   pure   and   clean ; 
Then  stored  in  bin,  or  cask,  safe-held  at  will, 
Awaits   the   money-market  or  the  mill. 

Meanwhile  the  field  assumes  a  spiky  form ; 
The  time   hath   come   to   gather  in  the   corn ; 
On   hand   the   laborers,   on   hand   the    cart, 
The  lads  are  all  aglee  to  take  a  part ; 
For  now  they  know  when  eve  approaches  near, 
'Twill  bring  that  joyful  husking  of  the  year. 
All   now   one   purpose   faithfully   fulfil, 
The  rustling  ears  are  hurried  from  the   hill 
With  ardent  zeal ;  and  flushed  with   hopeful  joys 
Above  the  standing  stocks  both  men  and  boys 

67 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

High  on  their  shoulders  crowded  baskets  wield. 
The  heavy  harvest   carted  from   the  field, 
They  pile   in  heaps   within   the   grating   door 
Throughout  the  spacious  barn  and   kitchen  floor, 
At  eve. 

There  then  the  guests  all  seated  down, 
From  every  cottage  home  in  all  the  town ; 
Some  old,  some  young,  and  some  quite   lately  born, 
Tie  with  each  other  husking  out  the  corn; 
In  social  chat  and  merry  song  they  keep 
The  golden  ears   fast  flying  from  the  heap; 

While  startled  oft,  the  seated  crowd  appear, 

i 

At  lucky  swains,  who   find   a   crimsoned   ear; 
For  in  such  luck,  'tis  never  deemed  amiss, 
To  "  go  the  round "  and  give  the  maids  a  kiss. 
The  sprightly  boys,  with  bending  baskets  borne, 

Remove   the   husks,   and  bear  away  the   corn. 

58 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

Then  comes  the  hour  that  gathers  large  supplies 
Of  apple-dowdies 28  and  of  pumpkin-pies, 
Then  bends  the  board  with  viands,  fruit,  and  wine;  — 
All  hail !  that  gleeful  hour,  the  olden  time. 
Then  when  the  week  hath  turned  its  toil  away 
How  mild  and  silent  is  the  Sabbath-day ! 

< 

The  modest  maiden  churchward  as  she  goes, 
Proud  in  good  looks  and  go-to-meeting  clothes, 
Across   the   glen  untouched   of  dust  or  dews, 
Bears  in  her  hand  her  nice  embroidered  shoes; 
Her  stockings,  too,  home  knit,  of  purest  white;  — 
Now  near  the  temple,  pulls  them  on  aright ; 
Then  in  the  precinct  of  that  holy  place, 
Where  loud  the  parson   grave  dispenses   grace, 
Shines  forth  a  beauty  flounced;   there  seated  down 
The  belle   of  all  the  beaux  in  Dracut  Town. 

59 


THE   MEERIMAC. 

Such  neat  conceptions  and  such  care   in  dress, 
Deliberate  judgments  do  not  count  the  less. 
Go  back  and  see  !     A  glance  shall  well  suffice ; 
Our   kind   old   mothers  were  the  best  of  wives  ;  — 
They  formed  our  habits,  shaped  our  very  lives ; 
Their  precepts   prayerful,   pointed  to   the   skies, 
True  joys   most   dear   to    early   days  alone, 
Ungrudged  they  sought,  forgetful  of  their  own. 
Men  of  my  age  !     We  hail  that   highland   glee 
That  cheered  the  homes,  the  hearts  of  you  and  me 
Of  yore. 

Ye   matrons,   too,   whose    childhood   prime 
Is   merged   in   memories   of  the  olden   time, 
Call   up   that   hour !    and   bear   me  witness,   too, 
Of  what  in  early  life  you  used  to  do,  — 
How   then   on   tip-toe    cotton  yarn   you    spun, 
How  buzzed  the   band   and   how   the  spindle    run, 

How  moved  the  thread  around  the  handy  reel, 

60 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

How   dear  old   mother  whirled  the  linen  wheel; 

While  at  her  knee  the  prattling  baby  stands 

Provoking   grandma  with   his   little   hands, 

To   feel   the  forked  distaff's  flaxy  curl, 

Or  ferret  out  the  curious  whiz  and  whirl 

Of  wheel   and  spool ;  —  heedless  of  frown  or  fliers 

Or  flax-comb   keen.     So   fondly  he  admires. 

Th'   enchanting  scenes   of  childhood's  joyful   day 
We  cherish  still,  though  fled  like  flowers  of  May. 
In  truth,  alike  the   habits   had  of  yore, 
That  linen  wheel  and  loom  are   known  no  more. 

Anon  advance   the   riper  years  of  art, 
In  which  inventions  take  decisive  part, 
Whence  generous  genius  prosecutes  the  plan 
To  overcome  the   drudgery  of  man ; 
Makes  lifeless  things,  impelled  at  his  control, 

61 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

To   do   the   duty   of  a  living   soul. 

Hence   cotton-gins   and   spinning-jennies  fine 

Outrun  the  wooden  wheels  of  olden  time. 

Hence  power  of  steam,  applied  on  sea  and  land, 

Expelling  labor  with  a  heavy  hand, 

Work  startling  wonders,  through  mechanic  skill, 

To   move   the   car,  the   steamboat,  or   the   mill. 

By   industry  that  artful   LOWELL"   led, 
By  faith  far-seeing  which  a  JACKSON  28  had, 
The  noisy  flood,  that  o'er  the  breaker  swells, 
Is  turned  aside  to  follow  huge  canals. 
Structures  gigantic  rise  in  prospect  fair ; 
Cities  that  spread  in  beauty,  here  and  there 
Adorn  the  valley.     Manufactories  filled 
With   prompt  machinery,  as  art  had  willed 
Her  work,  in  stately  ranks  now  line  the   shore 
Of  Merrimac. 

62 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

Now   changed  that  torrent  roar ! 
Her  fountains  turned  flow  down  in  tranquil  stream, 
And  rolling  round  the  graded  hills,  between, 
Through   deep-laid  channels,  never  washed  before, 
Propel  the  ponderous  wheel  with  mighty  power;  — 

The  wheels  "  within  the  wheel"  with  one  consent, 
Fly  rqund  and  round,  each  on  its  duty  sent; 
Ten  thousand  spindles  in  their  places  spin, 
Ten  thousand  spools  fast  wind  their  fibres  in, 
Ten  thousand  shuttles  shoot  across  the  web 
Fed   by  the  mules29  slow  back  and  forward  led;  — 
Fast  roll  the  fabrics  from  the  rolling  beam, 
Complete  in  beauty,  true  in  thread  or  seam; 
The  sheeting  white,  the  listed  broadcloths  fine, 
Neat  satinet,  and  carpets   superfine ; 
The  gaudy  prints  and  blankets  plainer  made, 
For  realms  remote,  for  home  or  foreign  trade. 

63 


THE   MEREIMAC. 

Workshops  with  throngs  the  villes  environ. 
Magic  in  power  o'er  wood,  o'er  steel  and   iron ; 
Alive  in  thought,  and  helping  one  another, 
Onward   in   handy  art  advancing  further, 
Embracing  all  the  works  that  man  can  do, 
Through  labor  fruitful  and  inventions  new. 

The  iron  horse  comes  next  to  greet  the  day, 
A   gift  of  Stephenson.     Now  on  the  way, 
With  charioteer  half  hid   upon  his  back, 
Along  where  Merrimac  had  led  the  track 
Bears  high  his  head.     Held  harnessed  to  a  train, 
Fraught  full  of  life,  his  energies  aflame 
Loud  whistling  wild,  and  fierce  impelled  amain, 
He  skirts  the  hills  and  snorts  along  the  plain ;  — 

When  in  the  shades  of  night  you  chance  to  hear 
The   screaming  whistle  of  that  charioteer 

64 


THE   MEERIMAC. 

Afar  j  —  then  note  the  belching  smoke  and  fire ; 
The  train,  impelled  as  if  by  Pluto's  ire, 
Darts  like   a  dragon,  whizzing,  winding  past, 
As  if  from  gates  of  hell  let  loose  at  last ;  — 
Yet  takes  a  charge  to  distant   realms   afar, 
And  brings  a  kind   return  in  peace  or  war, 
Shortens   forever  the  tedious   length  of  space, 
Burdens  to  bear  for  every  clime  and   race. 

Not  less  the  Telegraph,  contrived  of  Morse, 
Makes  labor  less.      Thrown  out  upon  its  course 
Full  fraught  with  messages   diffuses  light, 
Nor  time  nor  space  is  measured  in  its  flight, — 
From  State  to  State  in  every  region   hurled, 
Skirting  the  ocean-bed  from  world   to  world 
To   bear  the  news;  —  to  tender  useful  aid 
To  all   the  traffic  of  a  foreign  trade  ;  — 
To  catch  the  culprit  in  his  wayward  flight, 

65 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

And   turn  him  back  to  common  law  and  right. 
'Tis  thus  that  "  letters  to  the  lightnings "  given, 
Flashed   o'er  the  earth,  reflect  the    light  of  heaven, 
Make  common  cause  for  good,  with  all  mankind. 
So  man  progresses  in  the  march  of  mind. 

Nor  less   the   fields   in   cultivation   fine, 
Through   deep   discovery  in   progressive  time, 
Advance.     The  patent  plough,  the  scythe  for  mowing 
And  all  things  else  of  art,  that  seem  worth  knowing, 
Invented   now   o'ercome   the   farmer's   toil, 
And  make  him  monarch  of  this  ancient  soil. 

Old  PENNAKOOK  puts  on  a  modern  name ; 
WAMESTT  wild   still   onward  does  the   same  j 
While  AMOSKEAG,  no  more  the  red  man's   pride, 
Makes  MANCHESTER  a  city  by  her  side. 

66 


THE  MEREIMAC. 

Southward  and  seaward,  ancient   NEWBURYPORT, 
Of  ships  productive,  strong  in  force  and  fort, 
With   even  hand   fulfils   a   noble   part 
In  foreign  commerce  and  the  works  of  art. 

Lowell   is   queen  ;  —  her  history  recalls 
The   might  and  memories  of  Pawtucket  Falls. 
Where  Wonalancet  dwelt  in  wigwam  fair, 
Now  dwells,  in  pride  of  mansion,   DR.  AYER, 
Whose  nostrums  pure  and  scientific  skill, 
To  cure  the  nations  from  a  tide  of  ill, 
In  doses  daily  measured  by  the  tons, 
And  cords  of  calendars  in  numerous  tongues, 
Go  forth. 

Here   progress  made   in   modern   time, 
Where  science,  art,  and  enterprise   combine, 
Tends  but  to  tell  how  moves   the  world  apace 

At  will  and  wisdom  of  the  Saxon  race. 

67 


THE  MEREIMAC. 

LAWRENCE  and  NASHUA, 'the  later  growth 
Of  cities  chartered,   proud  in  art  and  worth, 
Still   thrive.     Wide  interspersed  are   town  and  ville 
At  work   in   agriculture,  shop,  and  mill ; 
HOOKSETT  and  SUNCOOK,  once  an  Indian  home, 
With  ancient  Salisbury,  drive  the  busy  loom. 

Pembroke  and  Bradford  !     Institutions  there 
Inspire  the   young   in  light  of  learning  fair. 
Here,  too,  old  Andover,  in  science  grand, 
Gives  gospel  truth,  glad-tidings  to  the  land, 
And   Tyngsboro',  Chelmsford!   wander  where  you 

will, 
The  church  and  school  are  found,  triumphant  still. 

Northward  is   Franklin,  where  wild  waters   meet 
From  mountain  height  and  limpid  lake  to   greet 

Our   Merrimac; — the  rustic   region  where 

68 


THE   MERPJMAC. 

The  noble  WEBSTER30   lived, — first  breathed  the  air; 
Schooled  here  in  youth,  in  manhood  he  became 
A  nation's   boast,   a   statesman  known  to  fame ; 
A  fame  still   chanted  from  the  mountain  rills, 
Soft  whispered  wild  in  these  his  native  hills. 
That  name  renowned  shall  live  fore'er  to  be 
Revered  with  WHITEFIELD,  slumbering  near  the  sea. 

Alike   shall  Pilgrims  inspiration  draw 
At  thought  of  PARSONS,31  "  Giant  of  the  law ; " 
Whose  life  and  learning  found  in  book  or  plea, 
Learned   by  the  learned  extend   beyond  the  sea;  — 
His  native  NEWBURY  strives  in  vain,  alone, 
Against  the  world   to   hold  him  as   her   own. 

Here's  AMESBURY,  too,  far  seen  in  learned  lights, 
'Tis  here  a  Whittier  sings  for  human  rights, 
Whose  prayerful  cadence,  high  is  heard  in  heaven 

69 


THE   MERRIMAC. 

Till   God's   full   answer  back  to   earth  is  given 
In  favor    kind ;  —  and  yet  through  judgments  just, 
We're  taught  in  wisdom,  and  in  whom  to  trust. 

Thus   true   it   is,  yet   dread   in   deep   disgrace — 
An   oligarchy   of  a   southern   race, 
Born  there  of  hell,  and   bred  in  slavery's  school, 
"Let  loose  their  dogs  of  war"  and  sought  to  rule, 
And  Sumpter  Mis.     "  To  arms  !  "  the  patriot  cries  ;  — 
To   arms  provoked,   the   northern  legions   rise;  — 
Nor  age,   nor   caste,   nor   different   race,   decline  j 
Alike   in   zeal,  alike   in  faith   combine 
In  manly  strength.      From  all   the  vales   and  hills, 
Out  from  mechanic   shops,   from  noisy  mills  j 
Physicians   even,   divines,  and   legal   bar 
Turn  heroes  brave  and  rally  for  the  war;  — 

As   when   a  bull   disturbs  a  native   hive, 
70 


THE   MEBRIMAC. 

\ 

The  bees  ten  thousand  buzz  and  outward  drive, 

Black  in  the  air  the  vast  battalions  bring 

Their   horrid   weapons    down;  fierce   on  the  wing, 

Upon  the   herd.     So   bent  on  war,   alive 

Legions   of  Yankees   from  the  northern   hive 

Leap  forth  aflame,  in  native  strength  and   power, 

Wielding  dread  engines  yet  unknown  to  war ;  — 

Countless   in   cost,  the   preparation   grand, 

For  deadly  conflicts  on  the  sea  or  land; 

The  monitor,  in  iron  mail  afloat ;  — 

The  monstrous  mortar  with   a  yawning  throat ;  — 

Vast  shells  and  shot  within,  of  strange  invention ;  — 

Six  hundred  pounders,   slugs  of  huge  dimension, 

The  new   capt-rifle   keen,  the   seven-shooter, 

Ten  thousand  tons  of  iron,  lead,   or  pewter. 

Armed   thus   the   cohorts   tramp  the   trembling 

plain, 

71 


THE   MERR1MAC. 

And  crowd  the  mighty  ships  that  plough  the  main, 
The  conscious   thunders,   muttering   from   afar, 
Bemoan   the   horrors  of  impending   war. 
Not  less  the   bolt,  oft  breaking   from   the   sky, 
Bespeaks  dread  vengeance,  threatened  from  on   high. 
Four  years   of  darkness   curtains  all   the  plain, 
Four  years  of  conflict  on   the   land  and  main, 
Earth   deep   in   sorrow  for   the   thousands   slain, 
Prove   but   the   fruit,   the   penalty,   and   pain 
Of  sin.     Yet  high   o'er  all   that   earth   betides, 
Th'   eternal   Jove   in  majesty   presides ; 
And  in   His   mercy,   sovereign  will,   and   power, 
Forgives   the   crime   and   turns   the   tide   of  war. 
Now   tumbling  from   her  bulwarks,   treason   falls ; 
Loud   ring  the   batteries,   crushing   in  her  walls, 
The   sweeping  navies   press   the   rebel  shore, 
From   field   to   field   the   belching    mortars  roar. 
Yet  doth  dread  carnage  cease  at  Heaven's  will ; 

72 


THE  MERRIMAC. 

The  curse32   is  but  removed,  and  all  is  still. 
Great  God  of  armies,  we  adore  thy  name 
For    thy  forgiveness   of  a   nation's  shame, 
Who,  through  the  sea    "  led   Israel   like    a  flock," 
Hath   led    this   modern  Israel   to   "  the    rock 
Beyond   the  flood."  Oh,   let   us   learn   thee    still ; 
"Who   bears   thy   image   must   obey   thy   will  ! 
To  whom   but  man   should   noble   deeds   belong, 
To  learn  the  right  divine,  to  spurn  the  wrong? 
What  we   would  have  of  others,  do  to  them, 
Alike   the   work   of  nations   as   of  men. 

Of  God-like  man !  —  if  thus  he   e'er   appears, 
'Tis  when  his  truth  outlives  declining  years, 
Who  ventures  all  in  strength   of  youth  or   age, 
In   deeds    divine   his    energies   engage, 
Who   with   one   hand   sustains    a   falling   brother, 

Yet   grasps  his  country's  flag  firm  in  the    other ; 

73 


THE    MERRIMAC. 

To  flaunt  its  folds   on  freedom's  towering  height, 
In   life's   last   hour   still   battles   for   the    right ; 
'Tis  such  whose  hand  hath  broken  the  galling  fetter, 
;Tis  he  whose  life  hath  left  the  world  the  better, 
To   him   shall   rise    a  fervid,  loud  acclaim; 
So  beats  a  nation's  heart  at  LINCOLN'S  name; 
By  whose  true  teachings  treason  lost  its    sway  j  — 
Then  passed  the  good  man  from  the  world  away. 
Still  Johnson  lives,  —  a  GRANT  to  lead  the  van, 
A  Sherman   bold,  —  a   gallant    Sheridan. 
Hence    shall   the  nation  social   pride   maintain, 
In  sovereign  States  shall  sovereign   order  reign. 
Hail  glorious   day !     'Tis  wisdom's  plan  ordained, 
Above   the  storm   is   liberty   proclaimed ; 
The  sun  of  peace  resplendent  shines  again ; 
O'er   all  the  vale,  it  cheers  th'   abodes    of  men. 

Come   back,  TISQUANTUM  !   if  above   ye   dwell, 
74 


THE  11ERRIMAC. 

Behold  thy  Merritnac,  once  loved   so  well; 
Thy   race   had   traced   it  from   creation's   start; 
The  white  man  turns   it  to   the   works   of  art ; 
Survey   its   progress   these  three  hundred  years, 
Since   up   and   down   ye   wandered  here   in  tears 
ALonCj  bereaved. 

Call  once   again   to   view 
Thy  thick-set   forest  wild,   thy   birch   canoe, 
Where  now  thy  kindred  sleep  as  from   the   first, 
Where    Pilgrim    saints   since   mingled   in   the   dust, 
Where   now   the   ploughman   trudges   in   his   toil, 
Thoughtless    of  what  still  lies   beneath   the   soil  j 
Oh  !   let  us   know  from   what   thy   name    inspires,  — 
What   is   man's   destiny,   what   Heaven   requires 
More  fully   still.     From   realms   eternal,  fair, 
Tell   us   of  hunting-ground,   of  glory   there, 
Where   blissful   prospect  Heaven  shall  fulfill, 
To   generations  onward,  upward  still, — 
75 


THE   MEREIMAC. 

While  purest  fountains  flowing  failing  never 
Shall   swell  the   tide   of  Merrimac  forever, — 
Sure   sign   here   given   of  God's   enduring   care, 
For  what  we  see  in  heaven,  in  earth,  or  air. 

76 


Boston:  Printed  by  Innes  and  Nile*  37  CornMJL 


APPENDIX 


1  THE    "  MERRIMAC  "   takes  its  rise    in  the  White   Mountains ;  is 
formed  by  the  junction  of  the  Pemigewaset  and  Winnipisseogee  Riv 
ers;  is  110  miles  long,  and  empties  into  the  ocean  near  Newbury- 
port.      It  has  been  said,  "No  river  in  the  world  works  so  hard  as 
the  Merrimac." 

2  SIR  FRANCIS  DRAKE  visited  New  England  in  1585. 

3  The  Pilgrims  landed  Dec.  22,  1620. 

4  The  Indian's  mode  of  greeting  was  by  a  kiss. 

5  The  Treaty  with  KING  MASSASOIT  was  made  March  22,  1621. 

6  Smoking  was  called  drinking  by  the  natives. 

7  TISQTJANTUM,  alias  SQTJANTO,  died  in  Dec.,  1622. 

s  Cattle  were  first  brought  into  New  England  in  1624. 

9  MASSASOIT  died,  and  PHILIP  became  king  in  1670. 

10  SASSAMON  was  murdered  Jan.  29,  1674,  0.  S.    Two  of  the  mur 
derers,  Tobias  and  Mattashinnamy,  were  executed  June  8,  1674;  the 
ether,  "VVampapaquam,  was  shot  in  jail.    The  indictment  against  them 
contained  the  following  count:  — 

"  For  that  being  accused,  that  they  did  with  joynt  consent  vpon  the 
29  of  January  anno  1674  ait  a  place  called  Assowamset  pond  wilfully 

77 


APPENDIX. 

and  of  sett  purpose  ind  of  malice  fore  thought  and  by  force  and  armes 
murder  John  Sassamon  another  indian,  by  laying  violent  hands  on  him 
and  striking  him,  or  twisting  his  necke,  rntil  hee  was  dead ;  and  to 
hyde  and  conceale  this  theire  said  murder  att  the  it/me  and  place  afore 
said  did  cast  his  dead  body  through  a  hole  of  the  ice  into  the  said  pond." 

11  PHILIP  was  slain  August  12,  1676. 

12  WONALANCET,  a  son  of  Passaconaway,  lived  at  Pawtucket  Falls, 
and  was  Chief  in  the  Merrimac  Valley  from  1660  to  1677. 

13  PENNAKOOK  is  now  Concord,  N.  H. 

14  WAMESIT  is  Lowell,  and  was  called  the  Great  Neck. 

15  KING  WILLIAM'S  war  commenced  in  1690  and  ended  in  1698. 

16  COTTON  MATHER,  a  clergyman,  born  Feb.  12,  1662,  and  died  Feb. 
13,  1727,  aged  sixty-five. 

17  HANNAH  DUSTIN  and  Mary  Neff  were  taken  captives  at  Haver- 
hill,  Mass.,  March  15,   1697.    Assisted  by  Samuel  Leonardson,  they 
slew  their  captors  on  the  31st  day  of  the  same  month.     There  were 
eight  children  in  the  Dustin  family.    When  Mrs.  D.  Avas  taken,  the 
infant  was  slain  against  a  tree.    The  other  children  escaped  by  flight, 
assisted  by  the  father. 

18  MARY  NEFF,  the  maid  of  Mrs.  D.,  who,  when  the  Dustm  house 
was  set  on  fire,  chose  captivity  rather  than  to  forsake  her  mistress 
and  the  infant. 

19  SAMUEL  LEONARDSON  was  a  boy  who  had  been  captured  by  the 
Indians  prior  to  their  attack  upon  the  Dustin  house,  who,  with  Mary 
Neff,  assisted   Mrs.  D.  in  killing  the  Indians  on  the  island  in  the 
Contoocook. 

78 


APPENDIX. 

20  Nashua,  a  river  emptying  into  the  Merrimac  from  the  west  at 
Nashua,  N.  H. 

21  QUEEN  ANNE'S  war  of  eleven  years  ended  March  31,  1713. 

22  The  French  and  Indian  war  of  seven  years  ended  May  18,  1763. 

23  The  Revolution  of  seven  years  ended  by  'definitive  treaty  Sept. 
30,  1783. 

/24  BENJ.  PIERCE,  a  native  of  Chelmsford,  Mass.,  was  a  captain  in 
the  Revolution,  and  was  two  years  governor  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
died  at  Hillsboro*  in  1839,  aged  eighty-one. 

25  JOHN  STARK,  a  major-general    in  the  Revolution,  was  a  native 
of  Londonderry,  N.  H.,  and  died  at  Manchester  May  8,  1822,  aged 
ninety-four.     He  rests  on  the  second  bank  of  the  Merrimac,  in  that 
city.    At  Bennington,  on  rallying  his  men  he  is  reported  to  have  said, 
"  We  will  gain  the  battle,  or  Molly  Stark  shall  be  a  widow  to-night," 

26  Apple-dowdy,  a  huge  pie,  which  was  common  in  the  rural  dis 
tricts,  and  known  by  that  name. 

27  FBANCIS  C.  LOWELL  was  a  native  of  Newburyport.    He  died  in 
1817,  aged  thirty-eight.     From  him  the  city  of  Lowell  took  its  name. 

28  PATRICK.  T.  JACKSON  was  a  native  of  Newburyport.     He  died 
Sept.  24,  1847,  aged  sixty-seven. 

29  Mule,  an  instrument  for  spinning  thread  for  the  web,  worked  by 
hand;  called  also  mule-jenny. 

30  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  a  native  of  Salisbury,  now  Franklin,  N.  H., 
died  at  Marshfield,  Mass.,  Oct.  24,  1852,  aged  seventy. 

31  THEOPHILUS  PARSONS,  a  native  of  the  Parish  of  Byfield  in  New- 

79 


APPENDIX. 

bury,  Mass.,  was  Chief-Justice  of  Massachusetts  seven  years,  and  died 
at  Boston  Oct.  30,  1813,  aged  sixty-four. 

32  The  Rebellion  commenced  April  12,  1861,  at  the  storming  of 
Fort  Sumpter,  and  ended  at  the  surrender  of  Lee,  April  9,  18G5. 

NOTE.  —  For  an  extended  view  of  what  is  related  in  the  context, 
the  reader  is  referred  to  the  following  interesting  works :  Drake's 
History  of  the  Indians,  Bouton's  History  of  Concord,  Potter's  His 
tory  of  Manchester,  Fox's  History  of  Dunstable,  Cowley's  History 
of  Lowell,  and  Smith's  History  of  Newburyport. 


80 


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